


What Happiness We Have Gained

by LadyBrooke



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Gen, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:26:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24765391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBrooke/pseuds/LadyBrooke
Summary: Ingwë and Elwë meet again after Elwë is returned to life.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 37
Collections: 31 Days 2020





	What Happiness We Have Gained

**Author's Note:**

> Written for 31 Days’ June 16, 2020 prompt, “Memories of Youth”.

Ingwë stood silently, words stuck on his tongue. Once he had known how to speak to Elwë, but that had been years ago when they spoke the same language, before either of them had been kings and when Finwë stood beside them in this same spot upon their first arrival in Valinor.

Finally, Elwë broke the silence, returning to the language of their youth. “I am glad one of us kept his kingdom and his life, at least.”

Ingwë felt a startled laugh leave his throat, and then a sob, scrambling to remember a tongue he had not used in too many years. “There were times I would have given it all away, merely to have one of my friends by my side again.”

“That would have been a foolish move. I do not begrudge you your happiness.” Elwë looked around him. “Or your mountain, I doubt my people would have been happy on such.” 

“Perhaps I was not happy by that point,” Ingwë said, ignoring the last. 

“Then I would not have had you leave your youngest nephew and Finwë’s youngest son to his fate alone,” Elu said. “And Finwë would have been furious at you for such, once he remembered himself.”

“Finwë could have chosen to return.” Ingwë regretted saying such as soon as the words had left his mouth, even if they were what he thought when he wished to send his friend a letter, when he visited Tirion and saw Finarfin struggling under the weight of the crown, and when he came upon his sister and his niece in his library. 

Elwë paused. An uneasy silence filled the air, sending doubt and fear down Ingwë’s spine, before Elwë finally shook his head. “I shall not speak for Finwë, but having seen him in the Halls - even if he had the option to return now, I am not sure he would yet be ready. Morgoth’s deeds have damaged him deeply. Perhaps by the time he has recovered enough to wish to return, we will have convinced the Valar to change their minds. I do not see why he could not, provided Indis and Míriel both agreed.” 

That was both worse and more hopeful than Ingwë had expected to hear. “I will ask no more now, but I am sorry that you had to hear of his fate so suddenly. I doubt any of them were in a state to explain it all.” 

“When I saw my great-nephews - Valar, other than Orodreth it was not like looking at Olwë, it was as though I was looking at you or Finwë.” Elwë’s hands clenched at his side. “And then the story of what had happened trickled out so slowly. I should have handled it better, but I was so angry, and no one wished to tell me the entire story of Finwë’s death or what had happened to cause such a mess with half his grandchildren hating each other.”

“By the end, Finwë would barely discuss such with anyone. I doubt even Fëanáro or Indis knew the entire story, and I certainly did not.” Ingwë took a breath, wondering how much he should say.

The look Elwë shot at him convinced him the answer must be everything he knew, if he wished to not destroy Elwë’s trust in him. “Finwë was unsettled when Olwë arrived and we learned the Valar had refused to wait until you were found, and no others would be brought to these shores. Míriel convinced him it was done, and they could not change anything, so they must focus on the future.”

“And then she was gone as well. Was that when he lost trust in them?” Elwë’s tone was unmistakeable. He saw Finwë’s views as completely understandable, perhaps even the only view that could occur in the wake of such. 

“Nay. He fell in love with Indis, and their children were born. It was when they started to drift apart and the Valar exiled Fëanáro that he lost most of his trust, or so I believe. He wrote to me less after that.” Ingwë knew he must ask the question he did not wish to. “Did you lose trust in them and us when you returned to your people only to find yourself left behind?”

“No. No, I loved Melian too deeply to hold such against anyone in the moment, and we seemed to be safe from danger with her beside me. It was when we fought the battle and both Denethor and Elmo died that I realized we were not just left behind to make our own way, we were abandoned to face their brother alone. It was hard to trust anyone after that.” Elwë turned, looking out over the trees that dotted the mountain. “I discovered in the Halls that Elmo is not even there. He is lost somewhere, or still captive, and the Valar have little knowledge of how to look for him.”

“I am sorry,” Ingwë said. He had not even thought to inquire of Elmo. He had thought that if there had been any ill fates granted to him, word would have been sent to Olwë and then to him. That had evidently been a false hope. 

Elwë shook his head. “Do not apologize. Your role in our losses was less than mine, and much of my misfortune was my own doing. The follies of youths granted leave to lead their people - it is little wonder that only one of us ended well.”

“And yet greater good has come from your two’s actions and heirs than has come from mine.” Ingwë moved to stand closer, until he once more stood side by side with one of the elves he had originally come to these lands with, when they had been the only three elves on the entire island.

It was not perfect. Finwë was not there, and neither of them knew yet if he would be returned. Elwë was still angry, and Ingwë was still regretful.

And yet, standing by the same tree that had been a sapling when they first came here, a tree that now towered to the skies, it seemed as though hope had returned.


End file.
